


Warm Snow

by ValentinesKiss



Series: Leo Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Beautiful Harry Potter, Bonding, Declarations Of Love, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Falling In Love, Fluff, Getting Together, I Tried, I have wanted to write somethting like this for so long, Inspired by Fanfiction, Jealous Tom Riddle, Jealousy, Light-Hearted, Long Shot, Love Confessions, M/M, My First AO3 Post, Not Canon Compliant, Obsession, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Tom Riddle, Protectiveness, Rating: PG13, Romance, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slytherin Harry Potter, Snow, Supernatural Elements, Time Travel, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:35:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26028838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValentinesKiss/pseuds/ValentinesKiss
Summary: That day, the snowflakes gently down, as opposed to how it usually pelted down heavily. The winter season had marked it’s beginning yet again.He wondered if this had meant something.The fireplace illuminated the dimly lit room, as he pondered upon the question silently.The words flowed all too naturally out of his mouth.“I would save him.”
Relationships: Harry Potter & Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Series: Leo Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1915126
Comments: 89
Kudos: 329





	1. Chapter I: The Beginning

\--

_1996, December 19th_

"A lemon sorbet?" Dumbledore offered his favorite candy as he waltzed into his office, Harry following suit. 

Harry declined politely as he thought of the possible reasons as to why Dumbledore would have requested Harry's presence in his office. _Had he done something wrong..?_ Dumbledore let out a chuckle as he saw Harry tense up. "No need to worry, dear boy. I would merely like you to answer a question that I have, out of curiosity, that is."

Dumbledore paused for a while before continuing, "Hypothetically, if time travel was possible, what would you change? Or more specifically, _if you had the opportunity to go back in time, before Voldemort had made his mad descent into who he is today, what would you do? "_

The snowflakes fell gently down outside, as opposed to pelting down, as it usually would. A gentle snowfall. Dumbledore's question was certainly...unexpected. Dumbledore looked at Harry expectantly as he contemplated the question carefully, unsure of what answer he would expect from the boy. 

" _I would save him._ " 

Dumbledore quirked an eyebrow as he took a sip from his tea, gesturing for Harry to continue. 

Harry's posture relaxed as he explained, "I find the general idea of killing someone, even Voldemort, as convenient as it may be to be repulsive. And in the scenario where time travel was possible, I think it would be perilous if we were to alter something as major as the birth of the Dark Lord, as that could result in further complications in the future."

Dumbledore seemed sated, even pleased with Harry's explanation. Dumbledore closed his eyes as he ran a hand through his long beard, seemingly deep in thought, before adding on to Harry’s verdict.

”I too, believe that everyone, even Voldemort, wanted to commit such heinous deeds. If I have to guess, I’d say it has something to do with the environment he grew up in. If he had someone there to guide him, perhaps he would have managed to change...” 

Dumbledore smiled wistfully at Harry, the same mysterious glint in his eyes that he often had when conspiring something. It was only after a few minutes that he had dismissed Harry, turning back to the documents pilled up on his table shortly after.   
  


\-- 

Harry left Dumbledore's office, unsettled, to say the least. Dumbledore had always been ridiculously hard to predict, as well as _insanely_ talkative, usually carrying the most part of their conversations. However, his behavior just now had been... suspicious, to the extent where Harry had managed to pick up on it. 

"Harry, want to play a game of a game of truth or dare?"

Harry looked inquisitively at Ron and a few other Gryffindors seated comfortably in a circle on the carpet near the fireplace of the Common Room, an empty bottle placed in the middle. Under normal circumstances, he would have wholeheartedly given into the temptation to join them. He felt oddly fatigued that day though. The conversation he had with Dumbledore still fresh in his head. Maybe it would be best for him to retire for the day. 

"No thanks Ron, I think I'll pass for today." 

"Suit yourself." 

Ron shrugged his shoulders at Harry's response, before turning back to the game.

Harry observed them for a while, before he made his way to the Boys' Dormitory. 

He let out a resigned sigh as he tried desperately to push the events that had happened previously out of his mind. _No point dwelling on it, considering the fact that getting Dumbledore to explain his odd behavior would be close to impossible._

Wrapping his blanket tightly around himself, Harry shut his eyes. 

\- - 

_Date Unknown_

Harry woke up rather abruptly. He found himself in a standing position, instead of resting in the cozy room decorated with different shades of red that he had gradually grown fond of. He noticed his attire had changed from his pyjamas to his robes, and that a luggage- presumably his, was on the ground next to him. _But how?_

He scanned his surroundings, the all too familiar painting and walls implied that he was still in the Hogwarts. The only difference, was that the walls had seemed much more less decrepit or dated than it usually did. All things taken into consideration, it was plausible to come to the assumption that he had been transported _back in time._

Fun. 

Harry suspected that he would have completely broken down at the spot, if not for a pat on his shoulder. Harry turned to face a man he recognized as Armando Dipplet from his portrait hung in Professor Dumbledore's room. If the evidence that he had been transported back in time was not enough, this was the final confirmation. Harry bit his lip, immediately regaining his posture as he pushed his thoughts aside, as difficult as it was to do so. 

"Am I mistaken to say you are Harry James Potter, the new transfer?" Professor Dipplet inquired. Harry nodded his head in affirmation to his claims. The Professor continued, "I do hope you manage to adjust to the curriculum here on time. It may be quite tedious to do so, but I will arrange for the Prefect of your House, which will be determined later, to help you cope." 

This wasn't what he needed to know. He needed to know why he was here, how long he would be here for, how he could get back to his original timeline. Merlin, things had never gone his way, but was this really necessary? 

Still internally panicking, Harry surprised himself by managing to croak out a small "Thank you Professor." 

"Right then, I'll leave you to join the new students in preparation for the Sorting Ceremony and the Feast over there. I hope you enjoy your time here, Harry Potter."Professor Dipplet then walked away, leaving Harry to stare at his retreating back, many questions still lingering on his tongue. 

\--

_1942, 1st September_

Harry leaned against the wall as he espied the new students waiting outside the Great Hall, chattering enthusiastically for their cue to enter. He would have usually tried to engage in a conversation with one of them to find out more about his current predicament, but he was frankly too exhausted and tired to. That day, he found himself sighing yet again. 

It hadn't been long before the new students were allowed entry into the Hall, greeted by enthusiastic claps and applause from all Years alike. The Great Hall was decorated grandly, lit by thousands of candles, levitating midair. There were four long, wooden tables, decked with golden plates and goblets. The dark ceiling, velvety ceiling seemed like a bottomless abyss scattered with stars, their shine never dimming. Despite his current situation, Harry couldn't help but to smile fondly in nostalgia as he heard the gasps of astonishment from the new students. It was always refreshing to see new students in Hogwarts.

_Well, not really new students considering he had been sent back in time._

Harry frowned as he was reminded of what state he was in. 

For the most part, Harry had zoned out while the students were allocated to their different Houses, invested in his own thoughts. The House he would be allocated to was clear-cut, there was no need to stress himself out about it. Although, he couldn't help but think it was somewhat nostalgic to see the delight on the new students' faces as they were welcomed with almost deafening cheers and claps.

Time seemed to have passed by faster than he perceived it would have. Harry frowned slightly as his name was called. He quickly made his way up to the sorting hat, ignoring the muffled giggles he had heard, majorly from the females in the vicinity. He supposed he had gotten accustomed to it from the years he spent in Hogwarts as the 'Boy who Lived' and as someone who was acknowledged as good-looking. 

\-- 

"Slytherin!" The hat proclaimed. Harry's eyes instantly widened in disbelief as he grimaced, a frown forming on his face. Harry let his hands fall to his side as he blinked his tears away as the hat was removed from his head. Wasn't the hat supposed to take Harry's opinion into consideration as well?

Just his luck that he had been transported back in time, _and_ that he had been placed into Slytherin. 

He could already feel the tears forming in his eyes. Since when had he become this weak? 

He would have no choice but to get back to his own timeline as soon as possible. _Everything would then resume normally as it always did._ With this new resolve in his mind, he begrudgingly got up from the chair and trudged to the Slytherin Table, as they let out a ravenous applause, welcoming their newest member. 

The atmosphere around Harry was glum, almost depressing, in contrast to the lively and welcoming atmosphere of the Great Hall. 

  
It was painfully evident to anyone who had _eyes,_ that Harry was undeniably in a foul, sullen mood. If that hadn’t been enough to hint to people he wanted to be left alone, he had deliberately sat at the very end of the mahogany table. His mind had been clouded with possible ways to put an end to the life of that idiotic hat. 

But alas, his time spent mopping around alone was interrupted as he felt the bench dip with someone else’s weight. Harry glanced sideways, meeting the other person’s eyes.

The boy placed his plate of lamb chops and mash potatoes on the table. He hadn't had a lot on his plate, but it was a great amount in comparison to the one pathetic, small piece of steak that Harry had been poking at for the past five minutes.

Harry couldn't help but to notice that the boy had sharp features, it would have been a lie to say Harry did not find the man attractive. He looked strikingly similar, yet Harry could not fully distinguish who the man was. 

The man smirked, offering a hand at him. “I presume you’re the new transfer student, Harry? I’m one of the Prefects of Slytherin, _Tom Riddle_.” 

Harry involuntarily froze, suddenly feeling nauseous. He wanted to throw up. He hadn’t expected to run into Voldemort, or rather Tom Riddle himself so early on.   
  


The man who had nearly murdered Ginny, petrified Hermione, _massacred_ students, all without a conscious stood before him casually. The thought of it itself would have been laughable. Harry found himself perplexed, unsure of what to do. 

Straight up jumping at the man and bombarding him with a wide array of spells couldn't possibly end up well, as enticing as the idea was.

_“I would save him.”  
  
_

Recalling this, Harry cringed, silently cussing at himself for his mindless words. Harry was many things, but a hypocrite was not one of them. Going against his words went against his 'Gryffindor code of honor'. Although, it was true that he was no longer in Gryffindor, he reminded himself satirically. 

Regardless, he would still abide by his values. In this situation however, he wondered bitterly whether that was a blessing or a curse. His answer was leaning more towards the latter. 

  
So, in accordance to his words, it seemed that Harry would have to try and befriend Tom now. While the idea of it itself was repugnant, reflecting on Dumbledore's words, if he could prevent the lives of the innocent from being reaped away by doing this, he would gladly endure it. 

Swallowing a gulp as he looked at Voldemort’s outstretched hand, Harry’s hand moved to shake his, words falling out of his mouth naturally. “Yes, nice to meet you too.”   
  


Harry was sure to regret this. 

The look in Voldemort, or rather Tom’s eyes was nothing but predatory as he looked at their intertwined hands.

Licking his lips, he enunciated the words slowly,

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Harry. I’m sure we’ll grow to be more _familiar_ as time comes.” 

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!!  
> Please look forward to more updates soon ^^  
> P.S. This fanfic is not entirely canon accurate!   
> Harry’s ancestry has been omitted, and the personalities of some people might be changed slightly!


	2. Chapter II: A New Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Under normal circumstances, Harry would have freaked, but he remained collected. If Harry managed to play his cards correctly, perhaps he would manage to save Tom.
> 
> The more pressing matter as of now was how he would play those cards.

— 

Harry trailed behind Tom. The man took wide strides, his legs covering nearly twice the distance as compared to Harry. One of the first, most noticeable traits that Tom had was his height. Tom towered over Harry, as much as it pained him to admit it. Then again, height had never been one of Harry's best features. 

They had left before the vast majority of the students did, successfully evading the crowd for Harry to better 'familiarize' himself with the layout of the School. Harry somehow doubted that, but accepted his reasoning either way. 

“So, Harry, do you mind telling me about yourself? I’m sure it would do us well to become more well acquainted. Since I’ll be the one helping you adjust to Hogwarts after all.

Harry was taken aback by Tom’s request, jumping slightly. 

“I believe your question is a bit too broad.” 

Tom hummed in response, before speaking again “I’ll re-phrase it then. Pardon if this comes off as intrusive, but what made you decide to transfer to Hogwarts?” 

Harry stood like a deer caught in headlights. Of course Tom Riddle, of all people, would ask him such a difficult question when Harry himself didn't even know the reason he was here. _How was he going to respond to that?_

Clearing his throat, the words flew from  his mouth carelessly before he could catch himself.  He spluttered out, “A-ah that’s- I used to be home schooled before, but my parents had a sudden change of mentality and decided it would be wiser to enroll me in a School, something about gaining exposure.” 

If any sort of creature, really, had lunged at Harry that moment, promising to kill him, Harry would _gladly_ have let it do so. 

Awarding himself with a pat on the back at eloquence, Harry shifted his gaze away from the future Dark Lord's back. He highly doubted Volde- _Tom,_ he self corrected, would have believed that blatant lie. Merlin, he certainly had the innate ability to mess even the simplest things up, as if he hadn't already bollocksed his first  day here. 

Tom turned to look at Harry, their eyes making contact. The moment dark brown eyes clashed with bright emerald ones, Harry felt detained. He felt completely vulnerable, as dark, seeming unbound eyes bore into his soul, as if unraveling all his secrets, trapping him in them.

Harry decided that he didn’t quite like it. 

— 

“Careful, the stairs can be rather steep.” Tom warned as they descended the flock of stairs down into the Dungeon.

Harry had thought that it was rather unorthodox for the Slytherin Dormitory to be located in a Dungeon, in comparison to the other houses whose Common Rooms were located in much less morbid places, though he supposed that finding out why wasn't hardly one of his priorities. He digressed. 

The idea of even entering the Slytherin Dormitory prior to recent events hadn’t been a welcome one or one that he would have entertained at all, so the concept of living in it seemed... surreal and uncanny, to say the least.

“Excellence withers without an adversary.” 

As if in response to those words, a stone wall de-materialized, giving way to a passageway to what Harry presumed was the Slytherin Common Room. 

—

Harry had heard that the Slytherin Common Room was decorate more...intensely as compared to the other Houses before, but he had felt intimidated standing in it, put quite frankly. 

The Slytherin Common Room was located under the Black Lake, and was decorated rather grimly. It’s semblance a complete contradiction of the warm, cozy Gryffindor Common Room Harry had grown fond of. Scattered throughout the room were an array of skulls, the atmosphere being a cold yet grand one.  The light in the Slytherin Common Room had a greenish hue, with with round, green lights hanging from the ceiling. The intricately and carefully crafted stone walls and it’s drab colors gave the room an overall Gothic feel. Harry thought it was quite fitting for a Slytherin Dorm. 

Harry noted that even though they were alone in the Dorm, Tom's posture remained upright, maneuvering his way smoothly through the Dorm, his attire as immaculate as it had been back when he first met Tom in the Chamber of Secrets. After some consideration, he figured Tom was simply that obsessed with not throwing any disdain onto his name, meticulously careful not to show any faults or flaws to anyone. 

“I assume you’re feeling quite fatigued as of now? I’ll take you to the Bed Chambers then.” 

Harry nodded in affirmation. The day had been nothing short of  eventful,  and Harry wanted nothing more than to sleep, maybe forever, even

He wasn't sure what exactly he was expecting when he entered the Boy's Dormitory, but it admittedly had less of a menacing demeanor as compared to the Common Room. The overall architecture of the room was quite similar to the Boy's Dormitory in Gryffindor. The beds were four posters, their sheets arranged neatly, adorned with green silk hangings. Silver lanterns were hung on the ceiling, and medieval tapestries were hung on the wall, illustrating the tales of the renowned Slytherin alumni. 

There were a few unoccupied beds in the room. He could almost feel Tom staring at his back as he hesitantly placed his belongings down on the unoccupied bed nearest to him, ready to begin unpacking. 

“I would suggest you take this bed instead. I’ll be next to you, so if you have any questions pertaining to School, homework or _anything really_ , you can always approach me.” 

Missing neither the authoritative tone nor wanting to come off as impolite, Harry thanked Tom as he moved to the bed next to him, starting to empty the contents of his bag and stuff them into the trunk that was placed before his bed, desperate for any sort of rest. 

Even then, Tom’s stare did not once leave Harry. 

— 

The night was a silent one, the only sounds being the distant lake water lapping against the windows and the soft breathing of the other occupants.

Harry moved to change the position of his pillow for the umpteenth time, unable to fall asleep. This was rare. Harry usually fell into a deep slumber as soon as he so much as touched the surface of the bed. He sighed as he sat up, staring intensely into the black nothingness of the room, pondering.

How were Hermione and Ron doing? Was everyone okay? Were they wondering where he had gone? He wondered what they would think of him being placed into Slytherin...  
  


His mind was full of questions that he knew would remain unanswered. He wondered yet again how he had been sent back here. It wouldn’t be a lie to say that Harry wasn’t suspecting Dumbledore for what had happened to him. It seemed like too much of a coincidence that he had been sent back in time shortly after their brief conversation.

He exhaled softly as he played with the hem of his pyjamas. Figuring out who had sent him here was the least of his concerns as of now. Finding the reason why, and how to return to his original timeline took precedence. As of now, the most he could do was wait it out for the first few days, and pray to whatever being was above that he would be sent back home. 

Although, under the assumption that the culprit behind this had been Dumbledore, then the reason why he was sent back here..

He plopped back down onto his bed, not knowing what to think of it. His mind started drifting off, Professor Dipplet seemed to be a decent man so far, though Harry didn’t really interact much with him, and the sorting hat had definitely did an incompetent job in the allocation of Houses. 

Perhaps the Sorting Hat wasn’t as intelligent and sentient as it would often proclaim. 

_Tom_. Tom had been fairly nice to him, although the constant staring had been off-putting. Of course, he still felt uncomfortable being in such close proximity with Voldemort, even more so now that the man hadn't attempted to hex or _kill_ Harry the moment he laid eyes on him. 

Upon further re-evaluation of Tom’s behavior today, he found that the future Dark Lord had seemed to have developed an interest in him, _Merlin_ knew why. Under normal circumstances, Harry would have freaked, but he remained collected. If Harry managed to play his cards correctly, perhaps he would actually manage to save Tom. As much as he wanted to deny it, the Sorting Hat's decision to place him into Slytherin definitely proved to be beneficial in this aspect. 

The more pressing matter as of now, was _how_ he would play those cards. 

—

Hearing the constant fidgeting from the now occupied bed next to him, Tom was unable to resist letting out a sinister smile. 

Harry Potter. Regardless of who this mysterious boy was, he had piqued his interest, so Tom would make it that Harry’s secrets were all rightfully laid bare before him. 

  
It would only take a matter of days before Harry would be converted into another one of his devote followers, worshipping him and obeying his every whim. 

—

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly this chapter took a longer time for me to write than expected;;
> 
> I’l probably tweak this chapter a bit, but I hope you enjoyed it regardless! ♥︎


	3. Chapter III: First Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry sighed resignedly, eyelids getting heavier by the second. Professor Slughorn would have to forgive him if he was found dozing off during his lesson. Harry found it ironic how easily he could fall asleep effortlessly in class, but not at night. Curious.
> 
> The door slammed open, it's impact shocking everyone in the class. A boy with black hair and blue eyes burst into the classroom, panting from presumably running. Harry noted that even though the boy had been from Slytherin, he hadn't remembered bumping into him before. 

—

_1942, 2nd September_

Harry squinted as he peered into the mirror, his hands attempting to tame his wild, unkempt hair. He had never really paid much attention to his outward appearance, or more specifically his hair which would always find it’s way back to it’s original state of untidiness. 

However, Harry had incidentally woken up early that day, and figured he would make an exception to make a better first impression.Harry groaned in frustration, giving up on the pointless notion shortly after. He had only succeeded at disheveling his hair even more. 

”Harry, you’re up rather early.” 

The sudden deep, baritone voice coming from behind him had him jerk impulsively. Harry’s hands immediately withdrew from his hair, and into his pockets in search of his wand, ready to attack the person who had sneaked up on him.   
  


Tom was leaning against the bathroom entrance, watching bemusedly as Harry’s eyes widened in realization of whom his wand was pointing to, instantaneously retracting his hand, unsure of what to do. 

Harry supposed the normal thing to do in such a situation would be to apologize.   
  


The act of pointing a wand at someone outside duels was widely acknowledged as incredibly disrespectful, after all.

Saying ‘sorry’ to the soon-to-be Dark Lord hadn't been an idea he had entertained at all, although he supposed he had to grow to stop condemning Tom for the faults he had yet to commit if he wanted to succeed in his objective: Saving Tom. He was well aware their relationship would not develop if he still harbored such feelings towards Tom, so as unwilling as he was to do so, he would put whatever happened behind them from now on. 

“I...apologize for that, it was an instinctive reflex.” Harry muttered, moving over to allow the other boy more space. 

Tom nodded in thanks as he shifted next to Harry, fastidiously readjusting the placement of his tie so both sides were equally as symmetrical. 

“Speaking of which, haven’t you woken up quite early as well?” Harry inquired. 

“I had prefect duties to attend to, and decided to come here to fix my attire before School starts. One of the many habits I have.”

Harry let out a hum, before turning back to messing with his own hair. 

Silence then overcame the both of them.

—

The next time the both of them had shared a conversation was when they both headed to the Common Room after they finished prepping themselves.

Tom had looked organised, as usual. No surprise there. Harry, contrary to that, still appeared similar to how he did when he had just woken up, the only difference, his change of attire.

Speaking of appearances, he vaguely remembered Ginny having commented that his tousled hair had it’s charm of his own, making him appear more genuine.

He suppressed a chuckle at the memory, finding himself missing the Weasley siblings more than he had originally put on. 

“Harry, would you like me to accompany you for Breakfast? I imagine you’re not too accustomed to the layout of the School, and wouldn’t want you straying off before the day has even started.”

“Yeah I’d appreciate that, thanks for offering, Tom.” 

Tom shook his head, as if saying that it was merely his obligation as a prefect. Somehow, Harry felt like there was a deeper, more profound meaning behind it. 

—

By the time Harry and Tom had arrived in the Great Hall was the time the mass majority of the students did as well, making it feel congested. 

Something that Harry discerned from the Slytherin table was that unlike the other Houses were everyone sat together, the Slytherin table consisted of different cliques in the House congregating in different corners. 

"I hope you don't mind me introducing you to some of my acquaintances? I'll keep the introductions brief if you feel uncomfortable." 

Harry nodded curtly in response .

Tom seemed pleased with this, as his hands moved to grip Harry's shoulders tenaciously, as he steered Harry to where he usually sat for breakfast. Harry flinched at the unfamiliar contact, feeling somewhat discomfited. Tom seemed to notice this, but played it no mind, gesturing for Harry to sit down, before doing so himself. 

"This is Harry Potter. He'll be joining us for breakfast." Tom announced impassively. 

Curious gazes flickered, before they finally fixated onto Harry. 

"Inviting other mud bloods to the table now?" Lestrange snickered. Tom's eyes glimmered dangerously as he shot Lestrange a derogatory look, sending shivers running down the boy's spine. 

"I trust I have the prerogative to do so. You seem to forget who you're addressing here. Need I remind you?”

The atmosphere in the Slytherin table had become tense. Lestrange stiffened unconsciously, the casual, teasing tone of his promptly dropped. Harry observed the scene unfold in front of him, contemplating whether the thing Tom had smirked so devilishly at was the boy's knee-jerk reaction, or at the fear he had induced. 

Tom noticed a few nervous glances being thrown around the table, yet no one said anything. _All just a bunch of idiots with no backbones,_ he thought as he snorted derisively. 

"I expect everyone here to treat Harry in a cordial, civilized manner. We wouldn't want anything but to get along _swimmingly well_ with the rest of our housemates, do we?" 

Tom smiled knowingly as his 'acquaintances' nodded in agreement frantically, before starting to introduce themselves anxiously.

Needless to say, the message that anyone who dared as much as to try and trifle with Harry would have to answer to Tom directly had been conveyed almost too perfectly. 

\--

The rest of breakfast had proceeded fairly uneventfully, silence hanging over the table. 

_Well that was one way to start a day,_ Harry thought sardonically. Though he owed Tom one for fending off any potential bullies, he couldn't help but to question the reason for Tom's protectiveness of Harry. His brows furrowed as he conjured possible reasons as to why Tom had behaved the way he did. The iron grip he had on Harry as he led him to the table had been strangely possessive too. 

It seemed things would only complicate themselves more from now on. One thing Harry was absolutely positive of was that Tom had an ulterior motive in all of this. All he had to find out now was _what it was_. 

\--

Tom had walked Harry to the Potions class on the account that Harry would get lost without his help. _~~Though he really wouldn't have.~~_ Either ways, they then separated, with Tom having Herbology as his next class.

The potions classroom was just as Harry had remembered it to be. There was still an almost frightening amount of cupboards in the room, all filled with an assortment of pickled animals placed in glass jars, arranged neatly, and the temperature in the room was as cold, almost artic, as it had always been. Harry figured that not much at Hogwarts had changed, even throughout the Years.

Harry subdued a yawn, slumping into his seat as Professor Slughorn went through the concept of love potions. 

It hadn't been the Professor's fault that Harry was feeling lethargic, but his inability to fall asleep the previous night, resulting in an insufficient amount of rest. Harry sighed resignedly, eyelids getting heavier by the second. Professor Slughorn would have to forgive him if he was found dozing off during his lesson. Harry found it ironic how easily he could fall asleep effortlessly in class, but not at night. Curious.

The door slammed open, it's impact shocking everyone in the class. A boy with black hair and blue eyes burst into the classroom, panting from presumably running. Harry noted that even though the boy had been from Slytherin, he hadn't remembered bumping into him before. 

"I'm sorry Professor Slughorn, I-" 

The boy was quickly cut off by Professor Slughorn, who looked incredibly exasperated at having one of his lessons interrupted.

"Black, late again. As much as I'd like to entertain you, I have no time for this. 10 points from Slytherin, also take a seat please." 

Harry had thought the Professor had been rather discourteous towards the boy, who he now knew as Black. Reminiscing on his past experiences in Hogwarts, he recalled there had always been whispers that Professor Slughorn was biased and tended to practice favoritism in class. 

Black's eyes scanned the classroom, looking for an empty seat. His eyes landed upon Harry, and the empty seat next to him, before hurriedly heading towards the seat. Harry groaned internally at this, any thoughts of getting some rest in the lesson had immediately dissipated. 

"Then can anyone tell me the name of this potion, perhaps Mr Black?"  
  


Harry observed the boy next to him flinch slightly at the question, his mouth sewn tightly shut. Harry couldn't help but sympathize with the boy. He had experienced first-hand the indignation of being treated unfavorably by Umbridge.

"Amortentia." 

"Splendid Potter, 10 points to Slytherin. Could you continue to tell me what the effects of the potion are?"  
  


Having studied the concept of Amortentia shortly before this whole ordeal, Harry answered "The effect takes it's toll on the person almost instantaneously, causing them to become infatuated and obsessed with the object of their affection, also resulting in them becoming either hyper or unstable towards others. The repercussions of the potions would be that it has to be consumed continuously for it's effect to last." 

Professor Slughorn looked eminently impressed with Harry's answer. "A perfect answer! 20 points to Slytherin! You seem to have much potential, Potter." 

Black heaved out in relief as he leaned over to whisper, "Thank you for that, I thought I was going to meet my death for a second." 

Harry laughed at the boy's exaggeration.

"It's no problem, I'm Harry, Harry Potter."

He extended a hand towards Black, who responded with a grin, hand moving to shake Harry's. 

_"I'm Orion Black, though just Orion is fine."_

_\--_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> P.S. I left out Harry's ancestry in the fic.
> 
> Hoped you enjoyed this chapter.


	4. Chapter IV: Impeccable Luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Harry, would you mind giving me the honour of a duel?” 
> 
> Case Two of Harry and his impeccable luck. Bollocks.

— 

Tom fumed silently. 

He had perpetually been under the presumption that everyone would wholeheartedly submit to him, prostrating themselves before him mindlessly.

He was regarded highly, possessing both charisma and intelligence. Whether be it out of fear or admiration, students would come flocking to his side, constantly seeking for his approval. 

Yet Harry had stubbornly refused to submit to him. 

Tom couldn’t help but wonder why. He had been nothing but amiable and helpful to Harry since his arrival, even goes as far as to invite him into Tom’s inner social circle.

Harry was  _ different _ . 

Tom hadn’t failed to notice the way Harry had flinched when touched by him, he would have been blind not to. Others usually melted when met with any sort of physical contact with Tom, so Harry had the  audacity not to be honoured, and looked discomforted by his touch. Perhaps he felt uncomfortable with any sort of contact? _..._ _ is what he would have liked to convince himself.  _

Tom felt his stomach twist as he was met with the sight of Harry talking animatedly with Black, who was also casually placing his hand onto Harry’s shoulder.

Harry showed no signs of discomfort, and even seemed contented by the affection the other boy was feeding him. 

Which was what caused him to wonder where he had gone wrong? Was he being too assertive with Harry? 

For once, the usually composed Tom Riddle was starting to get agitated. Though that didn’t mean he would give up. 

It seemed his original plans of unravelling the paradox he deemed as Harry Potter would prove to be more difficult than he would have liked. 

But he was positive that whatever he wanted, _he would eventually get_.

—

In less than a split second, he had regained his composure as he approached Harry, albeit with a longer and harsher stride than usual, appearing more threatening. Harry suppressed a shudder as Tom's shoulder touched his. 

Harry wondered briefly whether something was wrong, though he quickly debunked the thought, passing it off as Tom's general disregard of his personal space- which was something that he had proven to lack greatly since Harry's arrival at Hogwarts. 

“Pardon the disturbance, but I believe Harry and I will need to be going for Defence Against the Dark Arts class.”

  
  
Tom smiled normally, as he waved at Harry, before nodding curtly at Orion. Orion seemed absolutely shocked at Tom, the blood draining from his face. Harry couldn't exactly blame him, given the flawless reputation Tom had built for himself at Hogwarts, but Harry would definitely tease Orion for his comical expression later. 

Bringing himself back to his current situation, he waved back at Tom awkwardly before glancing at the clock, realizing that they would be late if they didn't leave now. Shooting Tom an apologetic look, he tore himself away from Orlin.  


“Ah, Tom, right. Sorry for the delay, I lost track of time. It was nice talking to you, Orion. Then, excuse us.”  


Orlin nodded in acknowledgment, probably due to his inability to formulate a proper sentence- Harry snickered at the thought. 

Orlin stood silently, watching the almost in sync, elegant swish of the robes the two boys were wearing as they made their departure.

—

Professor Merrythought clasped her hands together as she announced.

“While I firmly believe that we all require the knowledge and theory to properly be able to...well defend yourself against dark arts, I also think that the application is important as well. Henceforth, let’s start the first lesson of Defence Against the Dark Arts this year most vividly with a duel against any partner of your choice.” 

Harry deadpanned at this. Merlin’s beard, who was he supposed to partner? Facing off Tom Riddle in a duel as of now would be a reckless decision. Even though the resentment he had originally felt towards Tom had mostly dissipated, he didn’t have enough faith in himself that he wouldn’t end up engaging in a more than friendly fight. 

  
If he somehow managed to be paired with Tom, all his efforts put into befriending and not straight up hexing the man into oblivion would be in vain. 

So, he looked around desperately, trying to find someone without a partner, but to no avail.   
  


Joining Hogwarts his 6th year, where everyone had already formed their own cliques definitely added to the challenge in making friends and acquaintances. 

He sighed, it seemed he would have to rely on his luck for this one- which quite authentically, hadn’t proved itself to be that reliable thus far.

Completely immersing himself with his own ramblings, Harry failed to pay attention to the figure approaching him.

“Harry, would you mind giving me the honour of a duel?”

Case Two of Harry and his impeccable luck. _Bollocks_.

  
It seemed like fate had frowned upon him yet again.   
  


First, it had been being transported back in time unwillingly, now this? What was next, he would fall in love with Tom Riddle? Harry snickered at the thought sardonically. 

The innocent question from Tom, had him internally panicking, wondering how to respond. He was royally screwed.

Would declining his offer come off as impolite? 

Harry felt his hands starting to sweat an inhumane amount as he felt an increasing amount of eyes fixate on them. The abnormal amount of attention they received led Harry to come to the conclusion that it wasn’t frequent for Tom to approach anyone to duel, which made him wonder why Tom would be interested in his fighting capabilities, or him at all, in fact.

Regardless, Harry was always vulnerable to peer pressure. The countless, anticipatory eyes that lay upon him at that moment didn’t help.

His right eyebrow twitching in annoyance, Harry impulsively responded, “I’ll do it.”

  
He caught sight of Tom’s grin at his words, nothing short of wolfish. 

  
Harry instantly regretted and cursed himself for his impetuous decision. He made a mental note to himself that he really had to learn how to keep his mouth shut. 

  
So yet again, Harry found himself spiralling further down a hole he could not get out of.   
  
  
  


—

  
_His eyebrow twitching in annoyance, Harry impulsively responded, “I’ll do it.”_  
  


  
\--  


  
  
It seemed as if the original intention for the whole class to be partaking in their own battles had been completely and utterly forgotten, even by Professor Merrythought herself. Murmurs and whispers filled up the room, with bets being placed and predictions of who would win the duel being thrown around.  
  


Harry frowned at this. He had never performed well under pressure. His stomach twisted in knots, his hands gripping on his wand pertinaciously. If only he hadn’t been such a git, maybe he wouldn’t always be caught in such predicaments. He sincerely wondered what type of misdeeds and sins he had committed in his past life to deserve a fate as cruel as this.

  
  
Despite having many confrontations and duels with Voldemort and death eaters, he had not yet fully managed to curb the impending fear and trepidation that the battle would end gravely on his part.

  
Who could blame him though? Not everyday you get to face-off with the Dark Lord himself, albeit it being his younger counterpart.

  
  
Harry’s eyes shifted over to the opposing side of the room, where Tom was residing. His frown only deepened, his face rigid. One of his first thoughts when he ran into Tom was that he was an excessively egoistical guy, even in his early ages.

  
  
Essentially, Harry was on one side of the room, on the verge of a _mental breakdown_ over the consequences of the duel and how it would unfold, while Tom was on the other, looking completely unconcerned over the outcome of the battle.  
  


_What a narcissist._

  
Harry hadn’t been sure why Tom’s impassiveness had stirred such feelings up inside of him. Then again, Harry had always been regarded as a hot-headed person. If there was anything that agitated him more than harm coming to his loved ones, it was unconditional arrogance. So, all initial feelings of apprehension had been thrown down the drain, and he could feel anger piling up viciously inside of him as he shot Tom a look of disdain.

  
Did Tom think he was weak?

  
He wouldn’t do well underestimating Harry.  
  
\--  
  
  
  
“Well then, let’s start this off, shall we?”

  
Both boys got onto the duelling platform, facing each other. The previously rowdy room had gone eerily silent.  
  
Harry was unable to resist letting a thin edge of a grin playing about his lips as they approached each other, wondering what expression the other boy’s face would contort into when he realized Harry was able to hold off a much better fight than he had originally thought.  
  
Tom smiled disarmingly in response to Harry.

  
  
“Let’s have a fair game, is all I ask for, Harry.”  
  
Nodding his head in agreement, both boys bowed to each other, before taking a combative stance on the opposing sides of the duelling platform.  
  
  
\--

  
  
And the devil did grin, for his darling sin is pride that apes humility.

  
  
\--  


  
  
“Then, the terms of the duel would be that the first to disarm their opponent will be the victor. Feel free to start at the count of three.”

  
  
“Three”, Harry started.

  
  
“Two”, Tom continued.

  
  
Both of their voices into an almost animalistic sounding, “ _One_ ”.  
  


They stared at each other, their gazes locked, and their bodies unmoving for the first few seconds, as if they were daring the other person to start first.

  
  
_“Everte Statum!”_

  
  
Without a warning, Tom instigated the first spell, wanting to seize the opportunity to catch Harry off guard.

  
  
_“Flipendo!”_

  
  
Harry responded swiftly, almost instantaneously. Tom watched as the spell Harry had cast met with his, both the spells successfully neutralising each other. His lips curling up into a smile.

  
  
It seemed his hunch that Harry was a capable wizard was correct. It had been mere speculation at first, from the man’s quick reflexes from their run-in at the toilet, he figured that the boy had ample experience in fighting or duelling. He surmised that this would prove itself to be entertaining.  


  
“ _Expulso_!”

  
  
“ _Flipendo!_ ”  
  
Harry bit his lip, his eyebrows furrowing as he watched both of the spells cancel each other out again, colliding to form a blinding white light.

  
  
The audience watching both wizards battle admirably, enraptured by the display, had been forgotten as the two boys engaged in an aggressive, overwhelming battle, responding with equal or more fervour to each spell cast by their opponent.

  
  
The spells had only increased in volume as time passed by, the seemingly unending spells cast from the two of them coalescing to form large splurges of blinding light.

The anger that Harry had felt prior to the battle had gradually dissipated, turning into exhilaration, as he cast out spells, of which he didn’t recall knowing the incantation of.

  
  
Harry felt a strange sense of accomplishment as he saw the smile on Tom’s face. Instead of the usual false smile that he feigned when communicating with people, the smile on his face was genuine, like he was enjoying it as much as Harry.

  
  
The thrill of facing off with someone who had skills equivalent to yours was bewitching, magical. Something Harry had never experienced before.  
  
_“Incendio!”_

  
  
_“Expelliarmus!”_

  
  
Both boys panted heavily, sweat trickling down from their foreheads. They met eyes, exchanging a quick nod to the other, partially in recognition to the powers and capabilities of the other, but also because they acknowledged that their next spell would be their last.

  
  
Before Harry could catch his breath, Tom incanted, almost inaudibly due to his breathlessness.

  
  
_“Confringo!”_

  
  
Harry’s eyes widened in surprise. He didn’t expect Tom to be able to recuperate that quickly. Nevertheless, he wasn’t going to stand there and let Tom win that easily. Merlin, he had to hurry to cast a spell, any spell. Think, think, think…

  
  
Harry desperately conjured all his remaining magic into one spell, calling out frantically whatever words came to mind as he closed his eyes, awaiting a huge impact that never came.

  
  
“A corporeal Patronus…” 

  
Tom breathed out tentatively, bewildered by the sight before him. He shook his head in disbelief, blood drained from his face, too exhausted to care about his reputability that he had meticulously built at that moment.

Almost reluctantly, Harry opened his eyes. His breath caught itself as he was met with the familiar sight of a bright-silver, translucent stag. He let out a shaky laugh as he heard the collective gasps of throughout the class, feeling the rest of his energy seep out of him at an incredible pace.

He couldn’t help but feel sated when he saw Tom’s incredulous expression. He felt contented.

  
  
He closed his eyes, trying to regain his energy. His notion was quickly interrupted when he heard a soft thud. Opening his eyes in curiosity, he was met with the sight of an unconscious Tom laying limp. 

He attempted to get up to check on his acquaintance...? But his legs gave out before he had fully stood up, and he collapsed back onto the ground. 

Around him, he heard voices laced with concern, though their words were incoherent to him. 

As increasingly loud their voices became, the more his consciousness slipped. Soon enough, Harry felt a darkness take over as his vision blurred slowly out.  
  
  
—  


When Harry woke, he laid in a bed much more stiff than the one in his Dormitory. 

He had made the foolish mistake of springing up from his lying position, wincing after feeling a sharp pain in his abdomen. Yeah, definitely a bad decision. 

He looked around, taking in the ~~most regrettably~~ familiar view of the Hospital Wing. He must have blacked out during the fight then. 

The events that went on during Defence Against the Dark Arts returned back to his mind. He supposed both him and Tom had arrived at a standstill. 

He...could live with that. 

  
  
After all, overpowering Tom was not what he had come here for. 

  
Drawing with Tom in a duel would have definitely dealt a huge blow to his ego, reinstating that Harry could not be overlooked simply as just another wizard. That was enough for Harry.

  
  
So, he tiredly dozed off, sated with whatever he had done that day. 

  
—   


Tom sat at the edge of the infirmary bed, with his eyes open, staring blankly out of the window, the calm, gentle breeze of the night meeting his face tenderly.

He ruffled his hair, his thoughts currently all over the place. He felt a forgotten sense of helplessness as he buried his face into the palms of his hands.

  
  
He moaned in frustration as he stood up, walking over to the figure who laying peacefully on the bed next to his. 

To be fully honest, Tom had somewhat belittled Harry. He had invited Harry to a duel under the absolute certainty that he would emerge victorious.

He had never envisioned that things would have ended up like this. Harry had always found a way to foil his plans. First it has been his refusal to fall under Tom’s hands, and now, he had one-upped Tom by managing to summon a corporeal Patronus at the mere age of 16, even drawing in a duel with him. 

  
Tom felt pathetic.  
  


He merely wanted to prove the point that he made better company than that Black, who Harry seemed to he getting along too well with.   
  


He was obviously more powerful, more influential than that incompetent simpleton. He was the one who had first laid eyes on Harry, so it was only reasonable that the boy belonged to him. 

  
Harry was _his_ to use, _his_ to possess. 

  
His shadow loomed over Harry as he looked down, a pained expression on his face. 

What about Harry made him so special? 

  
—

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to combine the two parts together after some consideration.(I originally split them)
> 
> Sorry if that caused any confusion and inconvenience!
> 
> As usual, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	5. Chapter VI: Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blood drained from Harry’s face as he found himself temporarily incapacitated. He immediately recoiled, as he found himself met with a familiar face.
> 
> “Harry.”

\--

_1942, 3rd September_

Harry roused from his dreamless slumber the next morning, his back stiff from the hard bed. (Though his bed at the Dursleys had been much worse, he had gradually gotten used to the velvety sheets and the soft mattress in the Dormitory) The unrelenting rays of the sun penetrated his eyes, as he let out a hiss. Half-dazedly, he sat up, rubbing his eyes, trying to rid of his blurry vision, as well as to offer them protection from the radiant sun.

His semiconscious state that morning rendered him blissfully unaware of the pair of the dead eyes watching him without pause since the previous night. Looking out of the infirmary window, he realised he had never properly appreciated the beauty of autumn. The once seemingly evergreen leaves were now painted a combination of red, gold and orange.

The dance of the leaves as they fell elegantly was a sight he had definitely slept on.

Harry exhaled softly at the sight, feeling oddly rejuvenated. Feeling much better, Harry got out of the bed almost too energetically. In his peripheral, was Tom, sitting at the edge of the bed next to him, his right leg crossed over his left one, facing his direction.

Turning his attention to Tom, Harry couldn’t help but feel that something was amiss. Although Tom looked as he usually did, composed and collected, there was a disparity in something Harry could not exactly put his finger on.

Perhaps it had something to do with the events that went down yesterday…? He flinched at the thought. Was Tom upset that Harry had managed to draw a tie with him? Or was it about the Patronus Charm? Harry remembered Tom seeming thrown off as soon as he had conjured his stag.

Whatever, he wasn’t here to act as a therapist for Tom. The git had asked for it when he confronted Harry for a duel anyways. Huffing, Harry opened his mouth, about to inquire about what happened that day. Before the words could exit his mouth, the door flung open, as Mrs Merrythought burst into the room.

_Merlin, save us all._

Getting into trouble was nothing new to Harry. In fact, contrary to that, Harry was like a magnet, attracting trouble regardless of where he went.

Although, after the chaos of yesterday, Harry thought he would at least be able to enjoy a much well-deserved break. Waking up to receiving a disciplinary action taken against him wasn’t exactly the definition of being able to rest.

“I heard from the School matron that the both of you woke up this morning. Pardon my intrusion, Potter, Riddle, but I do have a few matters that I would like to discuss with the two of you.”

Harry unsurely shot a sideways glance at Tom. Despite Harry inwardly bracing himself for an incessant, unending talk on how they took things too far, Tom’s face was as stagnant as it had been in the morning, seeming not to care about the consequences they might face.

He was quite frankly taken aback by Tom’s lack of concern for what was about to come. Then again, Tom Riddle was practically the living embodiment of enigmatic, impossible to comprehend.

“I would like to assure the both of you that neither of you are in any sort of trouble, I will take full responsibility for whatever happened. I apologise for not being able to put an end to the duel, it was what landed you two in the Hospital Wing, after all.”

Hearing this, Harry’s shoulders relaxed, as he subconsciously let out a sigh of relief. Professor Merrythought stood in silence for a few seconds, appearing to be deep in thought before she continued.

“Thankfully, none of your injuries were severe, so the School matron gave you permission to leave as soon as you feel better. Once again, I formally apologise for what happened. I’ll leave you two to get ready, then.” Without waiting for a response from either of them, Professor Merrythought turned around swiftly, leaving the infirmary as quickly as she had entered.

That had turned out better than Harry had imagined.

“Well then, Harry, we should be headed to class since we’ve already missed the first lesson. What’s your next class?”

Tom’s tone was unwavering and friendly, the same as Harry had always remembered it to be throughout his time here.

His initial plans on not concerning himself with Tom’s problems had been long forgotten.

Harry was inexplicably thrown into another state of disarray by this. Had he misjudged Tom? He hadn’t instigated any talk with Harry when he had woken up, though. And if Tom had woken up before Harry, why hadn’t he headed to his class first? Skipping class? Tom came off strongly as someone who took his studies most sedulously.

“Potions.”

Harry hadn’t missed the way Tom’s nose scrunched up at that. Did Tom dislike Potions as a subject?

“I’m having Charms next. A shame we don’t have the same class. Do you require me to bring you there?”

Before Harry’s brain could even register what Tom had said, he was already being dragged out of the infirmary, an iron grip on his shoulder.

\--

The moment Harry entered the Potions classroom, the room exploded into a cacophony of excited gasps and murmurs, before they were quickly shut up by Professor Slughorn.

He could already feel his energy levels plummeting down at this. He ignored the gazes of admiration that tore at his back, not really in the mood to tolerate them.

Well, he supposed it was always true that gossip and news got around Hogwarts at an expeditious rate.

Suddenly, Harry had regretted leaving the Hospital Wing.

“Harry! I heard about your duel with Tom! I can’t believe you won!”

Harry playfully rolled his eyes at the boy who was, by now, screaming into his ears. Interacting with Orion had admittedly evoked a sense of familiarity and endearment. Harry stifled as memories of Sirius resurfaced.

“Harry, are you okay? You started spacing out a little.”

“Hm? Yeah, I was just thinking.” Harry responded weakly.

“You sure? I’m not disturbing you or anything right? If I am, you can always say so. It wasn’t my intention to make you feel uncomfortable or- “

Orion’s voice rose in proportion to his nervous rambling. Harry nudged Orion’s shoulder as Professor Slughorn turned to glower at them both for talking during the class. Harry watched as Orion deflated a bit, shoulders sagged.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you git. If you bothered me, I would have been seated at the very opposite of the class right now.”

Harry said, a tint of a red on his cheeks at his direct confession. His embarrassment seemed to be worth it though, as Orion seemed to have regained whatever energy he had lost twofold, laughing brightly at his words. Smiling fondly at Orion, the two continued their conversation.

Orion was someone Harry treasured dearly, despite having just met. The boy was full of traces of Sirius, someone who Harry most regrettably could never meet again, reminding him of the times they had spent together. Orion's vivacious personality was similar to Ron's as well. He would probably end up growing closer to Orion than he had originally intended to. 

Though he wasn't exactly complaining. Orion seemed like a nice friend, after all.

\--

Harry felt his hand twitching uncontrollably that night. Curfew had passed long ago, and the students were supposed to be asleep now. Well, supposed to. Harry had never been good at following the rules closely anyways.

Harry couldn’t help but feel envious of how easily he used to fall asleep before, never mind the fact that he often woke, sweating from a nightmare. Well, not being able to fall asleep at all would translate to having no nightmares. He held back a satirical laugh at the thought.

After continuous, failed attempts at getting comfortable, Harry gave up on the idea of falling asleep. Any further rustling in his bed would probably stir the rest of his dormmates up from their sleep. Resignedly, Harry slipped out of his bed as noiselessly as he could.

Harry had briefly contemplated the idea of bringing his Invisibility cloak along with him, but decided against it after some consideration, mainly because the trunk made a high-pitched creaking sound whenever opened.

Without bothering to throw his robes on, Harry left the room, the carpets on the floor masking the sounds of his footsteps.

\--

Harry found himself outside the Room of Requirement.

He had successfully evaded any encounters or run-ins with the teachers supervising and surveying the vicinity. Rightfully so, he thought, a smirk playing on his lips as he reminisced back on the numerous times he had sneaked out after curfew.

Harry took in a deep breath as he pushed the door open, and hastily walked inside.

He immediately halted in his tracks as he heard a distinct melody, his breath hitched.

He had to get out, now. Alarms signals were blaring in his head, yelling for him to get out. Yet he stood there, immobile.

So caught up in his own thoughts, a bad habit he tended to have, he failed to notice that the music had, in turn, stopped as well.

The figure slowly got up from the Piano Bench and approached him.

Harry's face turned ghostly pale as he found himself temporarily incapacitated. He immediately recoiled, as he found himself met with a more than familiar face.

_“Harry.”_

_\--_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> I'll try and get the next one out as soon as I can. 
> 
> Thank you!


	6. Chapter VII: Lull

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slender fingers danced elegantly on the keyboard, filling in the empty crevices of the room. A giant chandelier filled with innumerable candles dangled on top of them, the fire in the fireplace crackling softly as they silently alleviated their past grievances with the comforting sound of the piano.
> 
> It was almost romantic. Harry found himself letting out a small chuckle at the thought. Surely a strange and unprecedented way to end their night.

_“Harry?”_

\--

Harry wasn’t sure whether he wanted to laugh derisively at himself or cry out of pity for the endless amount of mishaps that he had gotten into ever since his transportation back in time.

Despite his attempts in being as discreet as possible, he had somehow managed to be caught red-handed again. Fervently wishing he would wake up and realise this was a dream, he silently wondered what wrongdoings he had committed in his past life to deserve a fate as cruel as this.

_He should be used to this by now._ The burden of being the ‘Boy Who Lived’, and ‘The Chosen One’, was a heavy one by itself. Harry had yet to mention the almost countless amount of _absolute bull_ he had painstakingly endured throughout his Years at Hogwarts. Being chosen for the Triwizard Tournament, his mistreatment by Umbridge, the prejudice and neglection he faced while living with the Dursleys. He could continue for hours, really.

Increasing in proportion with the number of mishaps he had gotten into was the number of deaths that Harry had borne the unwilling witness to. Seeing someone pass had grown to become an uncommon, familiar sight. A disgusting fact that Harry could not deny.

So, in comparison to the endless list of adversities he had face, the thought of being daunted by something as trivial as this was an act of pure cowardice.

Mustering his courage, Harry twirled around, his emerald eyes clashing with Tom’s dark brown ones. Harry narrowed his eyes, not giving in to the hypnotising stare of the other that evoked a strange yet addicting sense of confinement.

_“Tom.”_

Tom arched a perfect brow at this, peering inquisitively down at Harry, his eyes laced with suspicion, doubt and a hint of fascination.

“I do believe you have some explaining to do as to how you’ve found your way here. I would say it’s extremely unconventional for someone who has never been in Hogwarts proximity before to know of the existence of this room, wouldn’t you? So, tell me, Harry. _Who exactly are you_?”

_Ah_ , there was no way he would be getting out of this question scott-free.

Harry knew that keeping his stance that he had just joined Hogwarts, ‘coincidentally’ discovering the Room of Requirements would be suicide by itself. Tom certainly would, with no difficulty at all, be able to discern that it was a lie. Refusing to admit anything to Tom would only add fuel to the other boy’s skepticism, straining whatever relationship they had managed to forge.

Harry wasn’t going to let that happen. If befriending Tom was the only way he would be able to return to his home, he wouldn’t let Tom slip away that easily. But apart from that, what could he do?

Confessing the truth and informing Tom of who he would become in the future could potentially result in him accidentally encouraging Tom’s pursue towards the Dark Arts. Not exactly the most ideal option. Telling Tom selective information? He was sure the other boy would be able to see through his deceits almost immediately and press him for more. Harry had a natural flair for many things, lying (un)fortunately not one of those.

Harry racked his brain, trying to come up with a solution that would quench Tom’s thirst for information on him, and a way for him to come out of this unscathed, or at least with minimal damage.

It suddenly hit him.

_A seer._ Seers had the ability to glimpse into the future and predict prophesies with the use of their Inner eye. Under the pretence that Harry was a seer, it would provide an immediate explanation as to why Harry was able to locate the Room of Requirement. The perfect alibi. It was ironic how fate seemed to turn on him in one moment, then smile upon him in the next, but Harry would let that slide for now.

The main issue at hand was how to execute this as authentically as possible. If Tom managed to find any discrepancies even in his facial expression, the questions would increase.

_Merlin, the prat was annoying._ Though he had to admit, as impressive as Tom was at reading people, his prying into Harry’s business was hindering Harry’s original goals of spending an unbothered and free time at Hogwarts a great deal.

Trying to keep a nonchalant face, and looking as reluctant as he could, Harry muttered the words out as softly as he could.

“I’m…seer…”

For some reason, Tom had seemed to understand his incoherent mumbles, as he looked gapingly at Harry, with a wide-eyed stare.

Harry had to admit, it was somewhat refreshing to see Tom with a different look on his face, apart from the beguiling smile he often had plastered onto his face.

Tom remained quiet, probably mediating over the accountability of what Harry had just said. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, before opening them again, nodding at Harry.

Harry suppressed a smug smirk. Managing to deceive Tom Riddle himself would definitely prove to be an interesting story he would narrate to Ron and Hermione, to say the least.

“I suppose I’ve stressed you enough with the rather…pushy question I had just asked. I do apologize if that made you uncomfortable in anyway.”

_No shit Sherlock_. Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes

“Do you mind if I play you a piece to compensate for that? You’re free to request any specific piece, of course.”

Harry was slightly startled by Toms offer. Slightly sceptical as he hadn’t expected Tom to go as far as to propose to play a piece for him. Then again, he supposed there wasn’t much harm that could come out of accepting it.

“Sure, I’d like that. Any piece is fine with me.”

They made their way to the piano that resided in the middle of the vacant room. Despite the piano looking old-fashioned, its keys looked polished, its flat surface still retaining its dark gleam.

Tom let out a hum, his slender fingers gliding across the wooden ivory and ebony keys without touching any of them. Harry shifted slightly at the silence that had loomed over them. Harry moved, sitting down at the edge of the piano.

“Would Chopin’s _Nocturne No.2, Op 9_ suffice?” 

Harry nodded in response, not finding it in him to respond as he rested his head on the piano casing.

Delicate fingers pressed down on the wooden keys, striking each key with acute precision. The soothing melody reverberated around the spacious room, its hollow yet resonant sound striking its own chord in Harry’s heart. He found himself swaying slightly to the music, captivated by the beauty of the piece.

Slender fingers danced elegantly on the keyboard, filling in the empty crevices of the room. A giant chandelier filled with innumerable candles dangled on top of them, the fire in the fireplace crackling softly as they silently alleviated their past grievances with the comforting sound of the piano.

It was almost romantic. Harry found himself letting out a small chuckle at the thought. Surely a strange and unprecedented way to end their night.

Even with the other occupant in the room being Tom Riddle, Harry couldn’t resist thinking that what he was experiencing at that moment resembled greatly of one of the clichés the main heroine and her love interest would go through in those soap operas Aunt Petunia used to watch.

Well, Harry supposed he had never grown to care about those soap operas before, passing them on as mere fallacies that would probably never have occurred when met with the harsh truth of reality. It was something he had far too much experience in. Being able to be in a relationship itself would be a blessing when it came to someone like him, someone who could easily perish in any battle at any given time.

Pushing these thoughts aside, Harry closed his eyes, letting the enchanting piece lull him to sleep, enveloping him in a warm embrace.

\--

Lifting his fingers gently from the keys, Tom turned to look at the now quietly slumbering figure resting on the floor, shivering slightly.

He frowned as a strange feeling overwhelmed him. Before he could stop himself, he found himself removing the robes from his body, gently draping them over Harry’s lean yet fragile looking figure. _What a foolish decision to come here, only wearing your pyjamas._

It had been long established that Harry was different than the rest of the students he had encountered before. Now with the knowledge that Harry was a seer, something incredibly difficult and rare to find in someone, it had only aroused a greater sense of lust in Tom.

Tom could never feel something such as infatuation towards someone or harbour any feelings towards them. But _lust_ was something that he would allow himself to enjoy.

He had finally managed to set his train of thought straight. He would want Harry to remain as himself as he stood by Tom, acted on his own volition for the purpose and benefit of _Tom_.

The boy would eventually belong to him, yes, but he would remain by Tom’s side forever, unlike those nameless followers he could easily replace.

Satisfied with himself, he turned back to the piano, fingers resuming their dance on the keyboards, the familiar tune of Satie’s _Gymnopedie No. 1_ filling the room. 

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter!
> 
> As usual, I'll be uploading the next chapter in 1-4 days. I'll do my best to get it out as soon as I can, though.
> 
> Thank You!


	7. Chapter VII-Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well then, with this information, I believe we should start over. I’m Tom Riddle. Let’s start as friends?”
> 
> Tom had a small but contained sincere smile on his lips as he offered Harry an outstretched hand for the other boy to shake.
> 
> The original uncertainty that Harry felt the first time they exchanged the gesture had disappeared and had now been replaced with genuine curiosity and excitement to know more about Tom, and the eventual outcome of the game they had started.
> 
> Almost instantaneously, Harry responded to Tom with a slight grin of his own, his hand reaching out to shake the others.
> 
> “I’m Harry. Friends.”

A still and unmoving boy, save for the common, soft exhale that escaped his lips, laid limp in his hands as he paced the halls that had gone silent with the night.

Gently removing the robe that he had previously lent Harry, he tentatively put the boy down onto the bed, afraid that the slightest jerk in movement would cause the other boy to jostle up from his sleep. It had been a night like any other. A silver beam of moonlight seeped into the room, its ethereal glow falling gently onto Harry’s face.

Harry looked most vulnerable in his sleep, a rare sight, considering the boy was often on his guard for the most part. His sleeping face looked tranquil and peaceful, in contrast to his often erratic behaviour, the moonlight illuminating his long eyelashes.

Now that Tom had found out the fact that Harry was a seer, something he hopefully thought was kept confidential from all others except him, his excitement had been filled to the brim. A secret now between the two of them. Undoubtedly, the beauty that lay before him would gradually be his.

Tom shivered in anticipation.

\--

_The wind howled, with snow pelting down heavily, covering the ground in white. Harry let out a huff in irritation as the snowflakes clung to his hair and eyelashes, blocking his vision. It didn’t take a genius to realise the weather was completely different from what he had remembered it to be in September._

_He trembled slightly from the cold as he brought his already shivering hands to his eyes as he rubbed them, trying to clear his vision._

_It was an unfamiliar sight._

_The place Harry was appeared to be a battlefield. Harry analysed his surroundings closely, feeling strangely calm, as if he was used to it. It looked more like a graveyard, bodies piling over one another, rather than a battlefield. Harry winced slightly. Cold wind blew by, the stench of fresh blood strong, a malevolent air hanging over the place._

_Harry’s face remained nonchalant, instead of contorting in disgust or fear as it usually would when met with a sight such as this one. His indifference was the first sign._

_“My love, I’ve kept you waiting.”_

_The same face that had been permanently etched into his mind, a face that he had grown to feel nothing but resentment and animosity for, came close, pulling Harry’s head to rest on the man’s chiselled chest, devoid of any warmth. This wasn’t Tom, it was Voldemort._

_Something was undeniably wrong._

_Even as Harry’s consciousness screamed at him to get away, to push the man away with all his might, yet he did nothing of the sort. He could only watch helplessly as he relished in the other man’s touch. Embraced it, even, as he found his own hands moving to circle around the man’s waist, eliciting a small chuckle from Voldemort._

_The man who had just ended a countless amount of lives, was holding a willing Harry in his arms. The detached limbs, splurges of blood, and the blank eyes serving as nothing but a conflicting backdrop._

_“I presume you like the small present I’ve prepared for you in honour of your birthday? Rest assured, I have much more planned for someone as special as you.”_

\--

_1942, 4 th September_

Harry's eyes snapped open, his heart pounding, with sweat trickling from his forehead, as his hand moved to clutch his chest to calm himself. His head swivelled around almost instantly, as he found Tom still sleeping soundly.

His shoulders sagged in relief, as he exhaled softly.

The dream itself made no sense to Harry. Voldemort had referred to Harry as ‘his love’. What could Harry have done to deserve that affection?

Harry couldn’t contain the frown on his face as he remembered clinging to Voldemort in his nightmare. Were they lovers? Harry rubbed his temples, his confusion increasing the more he thought about it.

A premonition to what would happen if he joined Tom? Harry was more than well aware that Tom had showed an inexplicable interest in him, ever since the Feast on his first day. So then his motive to getting closer to Harry was to persuade him to join Tom in his pursuit of the dark arts?  
  


Tom in his 6th Year hadn’t showed much interest in the dark arts yet, or he could have been simply hiding his interest from him. Harry supposed it was a 50-50 probability, though he hoped- wished, that it was the former.

To hell with it, even if Tom thought he would be able to manipulate or win Harry over, Harry would be sure that he won this unspoken little game between the both of them. If Tom wanted to get close to Harry to encourage him to take interest in the dark arts, then Harry would reciprocate with the same, if not an even greater amount of aggression to completely eliminate the idea of dark arts itself from Tom’s mind.

Harry wouldn’t let Tom turn into Voldemort.

Burying his head his pillow, Harry fell into a light slumber.

He had woken up again shortly after he fell asleep. Maybe after 2 hours?

The nightmare had certainly been unexpected. They had lessened considerably ever since his transportation in time, or so Harry had thought.

Reluctant to continue thinking about the nightmare he just had, Harry tried to recall what had happened the previous night as he found himself still in a half-conscious state. His eyes snapped open as the memories flooded his mind.

_Did he really compare the scene to a scene from a romantic soap opera?_ Merlin, he felt like dying. It seemed his lack of any sort of romantic experience had come back to haunt him- though to be fair, he was convinced he wasn’t interested in the aspect of romance.

The subject of greater pertinence then, however, was how he had managed to get back to the Boy’s Dormitory. His face scrunched up, deep in thought as his eyebrows knitted. He had vaguely remembered falling asleep, so how did he get back to the Slytherin Dormitory. Tom couldn’t have…

It wasn’t far off to say that if there was one clear distinction between the both of their goals, it was that while Harry was planning to stop their relationship as something purely platonic, the other boy’s actions leading up to now had implied he seemed to be desperate for more than just a congenial friendship.

Harry pursed his lips before growling in frustration. He didn’t have the time to worry about these sorts of things, for Merlin’s sake. So, what if Tom had carried him back to the Dormitory? It hardly mattered. It worked to his advantage, even.

His train of thought was finally restored as he left his bed to get dressed,deliberately avoiding any sort of eye contact with the occupant of the bed next to his. He was sure Tom would have his own queries on Harry being a seer. Not everyday you chance upon a seer, after all.

Harry peered closely into the mirror, straightening the crumpled ends of his robes. He had a sense of déjà vu as he caught sight of the figure approaching him from the reflection of the mirror.

“Good morning, Harry.” The Slytherin Prefect greeted.

“Morning, Tom.”

Harry noticed Tom twitch slightly, an unreadable expression on his face. He supposed even the widely acclaimed prodigy could be caught off-guard.

“Harry, I am well aware that it would be best for me not to pry, but what do you often see in the visions you have?”

“W-well, they’re not…based off on one person, per se. They’re quite erm…sporadic, revolving around different people at different times.”

Tom seemed to buy his lie (that came out smoother than expected) as he took in the knowledge with a nod of acknowledgement, passing off any stuttering that Harry had as the nervousness from conversing about the touchy subject.

This was working out better than Harry had ever dared to imagine. The incident that occurred the previous day had accelerated things between them. If things continued to flow as efficiently as it did, perhaps Harry would find himself back in his own timeline faster than he envisioned.

“Well then, with this information, I believe we should start over. I’m Tom Riddle. Let’s start as friends?”

Tom had a small but contained sincere smile on his lips as he offered Harry an outstretched hand for the other boy to shake.

The original uncertainty that Harry felt the first time they exchanged the gesture had disappeared and had now been replaced with genuine curiosity and excitement to know more about Tom, and the eventual outcome of the game they had started.

Almost instantaneously, Harry responded to Tom with a slight grin of his own, his hand reaching out to shake the others.

“I’m Harry. Friends.”

Unbeknownst to them both, a figure shrouded in darkness had been watching them intently, a scowl on their face.

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I merged the two parts of the battle together, so I apologise if the chapter number stirred any confusion or inconvenience.
> 
> Hopefully you enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> I tried to focus more on Harry's thoughts than Tom's in this chapter, so hopefully that worked out well. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter VIII: Personal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “…Will everyone have to address you as Lord Voldemort then?”
> 
> The same devilish smirk had sneakily made its way back onto Tom’s face, his answer nothing short of eloquent.
> 
> “Nothing of the sort, Harry. Take it as a privilege that only you will be allowed to address me as such. To others, I will be Lord Voldemort, but to you, I will be known as Tom Riddle.”

\--

Harry supressed letting out a sneeze. Whether it was at the musky, overpowering smell of the library, or at the dust that collected everywhere, and floated lazily in the air- he wasn’t sure.

The Hogwarts library had a Victorian, baroque style to it, much similar to the rest of the Castle. It stacked with a myriad of shelves and racks, each one containing an innumerable number of books. As extensive and impressive the load of books the Hogwarts library bared, the knowledge they contained unlimited, it had its own disadvantages.

The task itself of locating a book that had the information needed was overwhelmingly tedious. Probably why most of the students absolutely _despised_ any sort of homework that required additional research, he mused.

It was as unfortunate as it was surprising that Harry found himself stuck in the same predicament. His eyebrows knitted as he glowered at the lettering of the labels, faded and tatty. He clicked his tongue as he took a step back, visibly annoyed by the sheer number of books located in the area.

Thinking back, he probably shouldn’t have held off his research on time travel for this long. He had figured quickly enough that chances he would wake up one day, to find himself miraculously transported back to his own timeline were incredibly slim, so he wondered what the delay was. Then again, the past few days had admittedly been rather hectic.

He tore his gaze off from the shelves, before fixating on his hand that was now gently rubbing the cracked, dry leather of a book. He briefly recalled the events that went down that morning. Friends, huh. It seemed they were making rapid progress.

He hummed softly as he removed his lingering hand, continuing on with his search of books. The day had flied by before his eyes, passing unknowingly. Thinking back, that day was probably the tamest ever since his transportation back in time.

The initial shock of being sent back in time had gradually dissipated, as he found himself adjusting quite nicely- in his opinion, to the timeline. He had missed his friend, no doubt, but he supposed he could painstakingly bear his time there.

**Time Travel & Its Secrets **

Harry’s eyes narrowed at the title of the book, as if reaffirming what he was seeing was not a hallucination. A feeling of extreme satisfaction welling up in him as he resisted the urge to grin widely, instead opting to perform a small victory dance in his head. Harry gingerly took the book from the shelf, trying his best not to cringe at the decrepit state of the book. Its leather was battered, stained with splotches of black.

He moved, plopping on the vermillion coach nearest to the shelf, the lamp next to it providing him with a generous amount of reading light, making the faint words on the book cover more discernible. Reading in such conditions was certainly not the best, but Harry figured he would have to make do.

Reclining slightly back into the comfortable couch, Harry flipped delicately through the brittle, yellowish pages of the book, its oniony pages reminding him vaguely of petals. Inadvertently, Harry found himself engulfed, immersed in the content of the book.

\--

**Time travel is a concept that has been widely explored and is one that will most likely continue to be. However, any specific information on time travel itself is shrouded and contained with utmost secrecy, which can be understood, given the danger of time travel.**

**Even the production of Time Turners has been greatly limited in adherence to the Minster’s request, despite only being able to travel back for a mere 5 hours. It’s a known fact that all attempts to travel back in time further than a few hours have resulted in catastrophic harm to those involved.**

**A common misconception people have regarding time travel is that their actions will only have an impact on the present if they manage to return. Regardless whether the person returns, their actions will have a direct consequence on how the present events unfold themselves.**

**It is greatly theorised that if time travel back in time for than more a few hours were to be possible, the chances that the person would be able to return to their original timeline are close to _zero_.**

**Taking into consideration the mishaps time travel has caused, it would be a foolish decision to partake in the act, as tempting it is.**

\--

_Well,_ it seemed the odds definitely had not tipped in his favour. Harry sighed.

A close to zero was better than a definitive zero, he figured.

“Harry? Such a coincidence to see you here. I haven’t been seeing you at the library before. Any reason for the sudden interest?”

Tom was perched gracefully at the couch facing his, looking at Harry with interest.

Harry would have suspected the ‘coincidence’ to have been purposeful, considering the number of run-ins they had with each other over such a short period of time, if not for the genuine look of surprise on the other’s face.

“I decided I might take some time off to do something more productive than usual.” The words escaped his mouth smoothly, well, he supposed it wasn’t exactly a lie.

Tom nodded in response, before his head dipped down, trying to catch a glimpse of the title of the book that Harry had seemed so occupied in. 

“Time travel…?”

Tom watched carefully as Harry scratched his neck sheepishly, probably out of embarrassment, he presumed.  
  
“Yeah… it’s seemed to have caught my interest, as of late.”

Tom paused for a bit, before inquiring further, in a cautious, curious tone. “Is there a particular reason as to why?”

Harry was unable to hold the slight downwards curl of his lips at the question, as he contemplated silently. Given his current circumstances, time travel was something he felt was mandatory for him to research on, but what if he were still in his original timeline? Would he be still interested in time travel?

The answer was fairly simple.

“There are…certain things I would wish to correct, if given the opportunity to.”

His response had obviously perked the interest of Tom, who had leaned forward slightly, appearing to be deep in thought.

It hadn’t been Tom’s objective to overstep his boundaries- or too far, at least, but he couldn’t find it in him to repress the curiosity that seemed to be growing twofold in him every passing second. 

“By correcting, you mean enacting _revenge_?”

Harry was in some regards, oblivious, but he hadn’t missed the way Tom’s eyes shone with a dangerous glint as his supple fingers twitched slightly in anticipation for his response. Merlin, he sincerely hoped the reason why wasn’t the one that had first came into his mind.

Harry let out a dry chuckle, as he attempted to respond as carefreely as he could.

“An eye for an eye will leave the whole world blind.”

Tom tried to remain as impassive as he could at Harry’s response, if not for the fleeting feeling disappointment that had flew by as quickly as it had come, clearly not agreeing with the sentiment.

Harry moped internally. This would prove to be harder than he thought it would.

For a while, Harry thought of bringing the topic of the Dark Arts up, before quickly changing his mind. It was a sensitive topic for the both of them, he surmised. If he were to somehow allow the accidental slip of his tongue, he could end up insulting the other boy, straining their newfound relationship.

“Harry, have you ever taken an interest in the Dark Arts?”

It seemed Lady Luck had a permanent grudge against him. He wondered what he had done to instigate such strong emotions from Lady Luck herself.

Harry found himself at a loss of words, his breath momentarily caught in his throat. His shoulders relaxed as Tom continued, not expecting much of a response to his previous question.

“I, for one, have. The ideology of being immortal, unable to die, is far better than the idea of being able to time travel, is it not? Imagine, the infinite amount of power I would hold, if I was immortal, unable to die. Anyone who dared oppose me previously, would be met with the fate they so very asked for. Fitting for Lord Voldemort, don’t you think?”

Harry remained silent, unsure of what to say, or feel. His resolve to save Tom Riddle had not crumbled in the least, but he felt his mood dampen, as Tom’s speech brought back unwilling memories of the dream he had desperately tried to forget.

Tom seemed to have misinterpreted Harry’s lack of response for him pondering about the plausibility and benefits immortality would bring, as his devilish smirk widened, and he spoke with a greater confidence than before.

“Of course, I would need a name that would strike immense fear, and what’s a more fitting name than Voldemort? It has a rather threatening touch to it, don’t you think?”

Unlike the previous times, it seemed Tom was awaiting a response this time, preferably an eager one, but Harry couldn’t bring himself to say something, let alone open his mouth.

A frown befell Tom’s perfect face, as he looked worriedly at Harry, almost insecurely.

“Is something the matter?”

Tom’s voice snapped Harry out of his trance, as he tried his best not to avert his gaze from the pair of eyes peering expectantly at him.

As much as it pained him to admit it, Harry found himself unable to refute back at Tom.

“…Will everyone have to address you as Lord Voldemort then?”

The same devilish smirk had sneakily made its way back onto Tom’s face, his answer nothing short of eloquent.  
  
  
  
“Nothing of the sort, _Harry._ Take it as a privilege that only you will be allowed to address me as such. To others, I am Lord Voldemort, but to you, I am merely Tom Riddle."

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! 
> 
> I might take a while longer for the next chapter, but it’ll be out by 14th September. 
> 
> Thanks for the understanding!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter!  
> Uploads coming soon <3  
> I upload quite erratically, from anywhere between 1 to 4 days.


End file.
